Shelter
by Zelofheda
Summary: After Season 4. Chloe gets an unexpected phone call from Jack. He's been hurt and needs her help.
1. Chapter 1

Shelter (Jack/Chloe)

Disclaimer: Everything that is recognizable belongs to the creators of 24. This is written solely for entertainment, with no intent to profit.

All feedback welcomed with open arms

Time: The December after the Fourth Season

"Chloe, that your phone?" Stuart O'Brian asked, cutting off his wife and his daughter in mid-conversation.

"Yeah, I guess so," Chloe answered, pulling her purse onto her lap and feeling around inside it. Now that they'd exited the brightly lit levels of airport parking, it was dark in the back seat of the car, and it took her three rings before her groping fingers came across it. She pulled it out at last and held it to her ear without looking at the number on the display. "O'Brian."

"Chloe, it's me, I need your help," said the last voice she'd expected to hear. Jack Bauer. "Get into CTU Medical, get as much gentamicin sulfate as you can, then get on the next plane to Chicago – "

"I'm already in Chicago," Chloe interrupted, and Jack stopped short. "What?"

"My parents sent me a plane ticket for our Christmas family reunion," Chloe said. "I've just landed and now we're driving to Kalamazoo. What kind of help do you need?"

There was a long pause, and then Jack said, "Chloe, I've been shot."

"Are you all right? Wait, that's a dumb question," Chloe corrected herself. "If you were all right, you wouldn't be calling me."

"It's infected," Jack told her. "I need some antibiotics, but I can't go to a doctor."

"Where are you now?"

"I'm –" Jack hesitated, then said, "Downtown."

"We've just left the airport," Chloe reported. "We can pick you up, take you home with us, and figure something out there."

"I'll have to think about that," Jack said, then added, "Chloe, I have to hang up now. I'll call you again in a few minutes."

There was a click as the conversation ended. Chloe looked up, but before she could speak, her father asked, "Who are we picking up?"

"A friend of mine," Chloe said. No sense in revealing more until Jack called back.

"Downtown Chicago, in the dark, in this weather?" Chloe's mother Susannah was not a fan of big cities, even on the best of days.

"Maybe. He'll call back," Chloe said.

"He?" her father asked, hope audible in his voice.

"Da-ad," Chloe said with a scowl. She was saved from other, more embarrassing questions by the beeping of her cell phone. "O'Brian."

"Chloe, I'll be at Navy Pier, inside the Family Pavilion, close to the Crystal Gardens," Jack said, and Chloe repeated it.

"Make sure you're not followed, and come in alone," Jack went on. "Your parents should wait in the car."

"Okay," Chloe replied. It both surprised and frightened her that Jack was so willing to accept her offer. Several months ago, Jack had been forced to fake his own death to avoid either being assassinated or shipped off to a Chinese prison. Only four people, all of them former colleagues from the Counter Terrorist Unit Los Angeles, knew he was alive; his own daughter had no idea. Since then, he'd lived under the radar, travelling under an alias and trying to avoid anything or anybody connected with his former life. For him to call her, just like that, was unprecedented – it made her wonder if he were dying.

"Navy Pier?" her father asked when Chloe had hung up. "That's going to be a nightmare at this time of year."

"Chicago is a nightmare at any time of year," Chloe's mother muttered.

It took them almost an hour to get there, which was a nightmare for Chloe. She'd never been patient. Then it took her another small eternity to find her way from the parking space up to the right level. The place was almost packed, and even when she'd gotten to the place where Jack said he'd be, it took her a few minutes to spot him. Because she'd expected to find him slumped on a bench, or perhaps even collapsed on the floor, she was surprised to see him walking towards her. His jacket was obviously not adequate for the Chicago winter, and the messenger bag slung over one shoulder looked almost too heavy for him to be carrying it. His face was very white and pinched; he moved slowly and stiffly, and Chloe was afraid he was going to keel over at any minute.

"C'mere, I've got a plan," Jack told her, taking her by the arm. "There's no need for your family to get involved."

"My family wants to get involved," Chloe said. "They've already decided that you get my room and I get to sleep on the couch. My mother wants to feed you chicken soup and orange juice, and my father's hoping you'll marry me before you recover and realize what you're doing."

Jack gave her a look of sheer bewilderment, and she said, "I told them you have the flu."

Shaking his head slightly, Jack merely replied, "Come on, we don't have a lot of time."

Looking in all directions, he led her to the restrooms. At first he lingered close to the drinking fountain, but as soon as the corridor was empty, he grabbed Chloe, opened the handicapped restroom with a special key usually reserved only for people with disabilities, and hustled her inside.

"Jack, what are you doing?" she asked, watching him lock the door behind them.

"I've got a bullet in my ribs," he said, placing his messenger bag on the side of the sink and opening it up. "I can't get it out by myself. Here."

Chloe looked down at the pistol in alarm. "You want me to shoot you again?"

"Hit me over the head with it."

Startled, Chloe glanced up, and Jack explained, "If I start screaming, people will wonder what's going on in here. While I'm unconscious, you find the bullet and pull it out."

He dipped into the bag again. "Here's a pair of tweezers, and some hydrogen peroxide. Once you've got the bullet out, just pour the peroxide over the wound. Flood it."

"Jack, I'm not a doctor," Chloe protested, watching him.

"You can do this, Chloe. I trust you," he said. He was holding himself upright with his left hand, and when he pulled some bandages out of his bag, his other hand shook. The bandages fell into the sink.

"What about the antibiotics?" Chloe asked, biting her lip.

"Never mind. Just get the bullet out," Jack said, looking down without otherwise moving.

"And then what?" Chloe asked. She reached into the sink, pulled out the bandages, and lined them up on the shelf next to the bottle of peroxide.

"Then you bandage it, wash your hands and go back to your car."

"And just leave you here?" Chloe asked.

"Yeah." Jack knelt down facing away from her, then extended his left arm, halting in mid-movement. "Help me get my jacket off."

"You gonna spend the night in here?" Chloe was surprised at how hot his hand was when she brushed against it, sliding the sleeve down his arm. The jacket came off to reveal an old wool pullover with a pear-shaped stain of reddish brown under the left shoulderblade.

"I'll find shelter," Jack murmured. "You ready?"

Looking at the dried blood and thinking of his fever and the sub-freezing temperatures outside, Chloe knew she had to offer him something better than just plain "shelter," whether he liked it or not. She raised the gun and brought it down on his head, watched him collapse onto the floor, then grabbed her cell phone and dialed her mother's number.


	2. Chapter 2

I just wanted to say a big thank you to everybody who reviewed! Thank you, InkSmuggler, Rebekah Price, Eleanor J., Mandy543, Farmgt, bobdabuilder0804, and beauty0102!

Thankfully, Jack didn't wake up until they were on the road again. Chloe's father had believed her story about her friend suddenly fainting, and had come up from the car park while she'd hastily packed everything back into Jack's bag and dragged him out into the corridor again. Then he'd helped her carry Jack down to the car, which Chloe's mom had driven closer to the elevator. While they were settling Jack in the back seat, Chloe's mom had even gotten out the plaid blanket they always carried in the back and had tucked it around him.

Watching him carefully from the other side of the back seat, Chloe saw Jack's eyes flutter a few times, then open fully. He looked around, obviously disoriented at first and trying to size up the situation, then focused on her. "Chloe?"

"You fainted," she told him bluntly. "We're driving you to my parents' house."

"Stuart, he's awake," Chloe's mother said from the front seat, then turned around to smile alternately at him and Chloe. "Hi! I don't think we've met, but any friend of Chloe's is a friend of ours. I'm Susannah O'Brian, and this is my husband Stuart."

"Nice to meet you," Jack said slowly. "I'm … Frank. Frank Flynn."

Chloe noticed the slight hesitation as Jack named his alias, and hoped her parents would put it down to the "flu."

"Hiya, Frank, how ya doin'?" Chloe's father asked heartily, as though he hadn't had to help her load the man into the car just a few minutes previously.

"When was the last time you had anything for your fever, Frank?" her mother asked.

"Uh … " Jack hedged, looking to Chloe as though for help in remembering. "This morning."

"Here, Chloe, give him two of these." Her mother had already dug a bottle of painkillers out of her purse, and now she handed it back to Chloe. Struggling for a moment with the child-proof cap, Chloe finally got it open and shook out a handful of tablets.

"Do you need a drink to wash them down?" Chloe's mother asked. "We could stop at the next store and get you some juice."

Chloe had a sudden vision of Jack jumping out of the car and running away – or rather, creeping out of the car and staggering away – the minute her parents' backs were turned, and snapped, "We don't have to stop. I've got some water in my purse."

She separated two tablets from the rest and held them out. Jack wiggled his arm free of the blanket, then extended his hand. Placing the tablets carefully into his trembling palm, Chloe put the rest away, and pulled her water bottle from her purse. Jack drained it down to the last drop.

"Thanks," he rasped.

"We've got a long drive ahead of us," Chloe's mother said. "Try and get some sleep, Frank."

Jack gave the interior of the car one last sweeping look, almost as though expecting terrorists to come bursting out of the airbag compartments, then leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

"So, Frank, you need a hand?" Chloe's father asked, opening the car door for him.

Jack got out very slowly and carefully. "I'm all right, thanks. Chloe? Where's my bag?"

"Here," she said, already having gotten it out of the trunk. Although he was reaching out, she slung it over her own shoulder. "Come on, I'll show you the house."

"Chloe brings a man home at last," she heard her father say as they crunched through the freshly fallen snow on their way to the porch, and then he called out, "You hang onto him, Chloe, until I can get my shotgun and the preacher!"

"Stu!" her mother protested. Opening the door, Chloe swept Jack inside and closed it again on her father's next exclamation of "Just kidding!"

Trying to act as though nothing had happened, Chloe led Jack through the living room and down the hall. The room she'd shared with her sister until she'd moved out looked smaller than she remembered, and much more empty. "Here's where you'll be staying, the bathroom's next door, and my parents are just over there."

Following her in, Jack said, "Chloe, I said I didn't want your family involved."

"You want the police go to Kim and say they've found your dead body in a snowdrift in Chicago?" Chloe demanded.

Jack winced visibly at the mention of his daughter, then sat down on the bed. Dumping the messenger bag next to him, Chloe laid a hand on his shoulder. "You'll be safe here for a few days, and when you're feeling better, I'll drive you wherever you want to go and let you disappear again."

"I've thought of a way I can get the antibiotics myself, but I'll have to wait until to-morrow," Jack said. "I just need the bullet out."

"If I can get rid of my parents, I can take the bullet out without having to hit you over the head again," Chloe told him. "I don't wanna do that, 'cause you could get brain damage from being concussed too many times."

"Can you get rid of your parents?" Jack asked.

"Let me see."

When Chloe came back into the living room, trying to formulate a plan to get both her parents out of the house, her mother had shed her coat and was looking at her sadly.

"What?" Chloe asked.

"We were planning to take you out to dinner to-night," her mother said. Lowering her voice, she said, "Do you think we could leave him here alone?"

Chloe shook her head. "I'd feel more comfortable staying here with him. You guys can go eat out."

"Honey bunny, we were looking forward to being with you." Her mother pouted just a little bit.

"Well, I'll order something, you and Dad can go pick it up, and we can eat here."

"Why not have it delivered?" her father asked, and Chloe shot him a scowl. "It'll be faster."

As Chloe went over to the telephone stand and pulled the Yellow Pages out of the drawer, her father said, "You know, Sue, if that man wasn't so sick, I'd think she wants us out of the house."

Chloe rolled her eyes. "He's sick, all right?"

As soon as her parents had left to go pick up the pizza she'd ordered, Chloe closed the door behind them and jogged down the hall to the bedroom. Jack was sitting exactly where she'd left him, with his hand on his bag as though ready to jump and run at the slightest provocation. He hadn't even taken his jacket off.

"Okay, they're gone," she said. "Where are the tweezers?"

Jack opened his bag, frowning, then brought everything out and arranged it on the nightstand. Watching him, Chloe asked, "How'd you get shot, anyway?"

"Some kids wanted to beat me up," Jack said in a clipped tone. "As far as I could tell, it was a gang initiation thing. When I fought back, one of them pulled out a gun. I made sure he only got one shot off."

He unzipped his jacket, and Chloe helped him strip off his jacket and pullover, trying not to wrinkle her nose at the smell of unwashed body. Was it just her imagination, or did he seem somewhat cooler? He wasn't shaking quite so badly, either, but he didn't protest when she started to unbutton his shirt. She eased it off, and watched goose pimples form on his shoulders.

"Lay down," she said. "It'll be easier for me."

As Jack stretched out face down on the bed, Chloe switched on the lamp and angled it towards him. Blood had dried all down the left side of his back, and she winced. "I'm gonna get some water and clean this up so I can see what I'm doing."

She came back from the bathroom with a washcloth and a bowl of warm water to see Jack folding something into a thick pad.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Pillow case," he replied. "To bite on."

"I should have thought of that." Chloe dipped the washcloth into the water, wrung it out, and started to gently wipe the blood away. Jack tensed at the first touch, then tensed again, more violently, when she got close to the large bump at the top of the stain. It had a small dark center, surrounded by red, swollen flesh.

"We both know it's going to hurt," Jack said. "Once you start, don't stop. Just put the tweezers in, find the bullet and get it out."

Chloe reached out for the tweezers and hesitated.

"Don't think about it, Chloe, just do it!" Jack shoutd. He stuffed the pillowcase into his mouth and bit down savagely.

Gritting her own teeth, Chloe shut her eyes for a moment to focus, then opened them, and inserted the tweezers into the bullet wound. She was aware of Jack's muted roaring, of the twitching he couldn't quite control, but all of her attention was on the sensation in her fingertips as she probed for the bullet. At last, the tips of the tweezers transmitted the feeling of something hard and unyielding. She opened them, pinched, and pulled.

The bullet was smaller than she'd thought it would be, and she stared at it for a moment before remembering the hydrogen peroxide. Recalling Jack's instructions from a few hours ago, she unscrewed the lid and poured a good third of the bottle into the wound. Jack bucked once as the liquid foamed, shouting through his gag.

Setting the bottle aside, Chloe reached for the towel. The peroxide, once white, was now pink with blood, and she alternately wiped and dabbed until she could no longer see anything of that sickening shade against his skin. There was only pure red oozing up from the hole now, and Chloe quickly covered it with a square of gauze. As she applied strips of tape to keep it in place, Jack removed the pillowcase from his mouth and croaked, "Thanks."

"Maybe I should have hit you over the head again," she said shakily.

"No, Chloe, you did great."

Chloe bit her lip and glanced away, then glanced back and saw him still looking at her. As she met his eyes, he gave her a quick, encouraging smile. Chloe stood up abruptly, grabbed the bowl of water, and marched to the bathroom, hoping he hadn't seen that she was smiling, too. It would have exposed too much that needed to be kept sheltered from him.


	3. Chapter 3

Another big thanks to everybody who's replied! I really do appreciate it, and thank you all from the bottom of my heart: beauty0102, InkSmuggler, Farmqt, Mandy543, Bubble-Sheep, Eleanor J., Suzy87, and happy hooligan2001!

(happy face)

The next morning, Chloe was awakened by a snowplough as it rumbled past the house. The living room was still dark, but there was light shining in from the hall, and she could hear someone moving around in the kitchen. A moment later, her mother came in, using her elbow to flick the light switch because both of her hands were holding a tray.

"Mom, you didn't have to bring me breakfast in bed," Chloe said, but she reached out to take it anyway. She hadn't had homemade oatmeal with brown sugar and raisins since she'd moved to California, and her mouth watered in anticipation.

"It's not for you, it's for Frank," her mother said. "You can take it to him."

"Me?" Chloe asked. "I've just woken up. Why can't you?"

Her father appeared in the hallway. "Because I'm the only man allowed to see my wife in her nightgown and bathrobe, that's why."

Chloe rolled her eyes and swung her legs out of bed. "All right, all right, I'm going."

Her mother handed her the tray, then preceded her down the hall, disappearing into the bathroom as Chloe tried to balance the tray and turn the doorknob at the same time. It was only after Chloe got the door open and had switched the light on that she thought to ask, "Frank, can I come in?"

From the depths of the bedcovers, Jack murmured, "Yeah."

"My mom's sending you breakfast in bed." The smell in the room made Chloe want to bury her face in the oatmeal and breathe that instead. How could Jack stand himself? She leaned her head closer to the bowl, but then Jack sat up and she was obliged to extend the tray in his direction.

There was a hesitant knock at the door, and her mother called out, "Chloe? Can you come here for just a moment?"

Plopping the tray into Jack's lap, Chloe turned around impatiently. Hadn't she been talking to her mother just a moment ago? "What?"

Her mother made a beckoning sign with one hand, and Chloe all but stomped over to the door. Before she could say anything, her mother held out a small pile of towels with a bottle of shower soap on top. "Could you just put these on the dresser over there? Thank you, honey bunny."

Annoyed at being called "honey bunny" in Jack's hearing, Chloe grabbed the towels, then shut the door firmly.

"This is my mom's way of saying you need to take a shower," she told Jack as she slammed them onto the dresser.

"Right now we need to concentrate on getting those antibiotics," Jack said in exactly the same tone of voice that he'd always used at CTU. Chloe wondered briefly if he were delirious.

"Get dressed," he continued. "I'm gonna need your help."

(Later) +

"Let me out here," Jack said. They had just driven past the supermarket that was, as Jack had specified, not the one closest to Chloe's house. As Chloe pulled over, Jack said, "Circle around, come back, and park as close to the door as you can get. Then go into the store and look for aspirin."

He got slowly out of the car and pulled up the hood of the heavy coat that Chloe had borrowed for him from her father.

"What are you going to do?" she asked.

"Just trust me," Jack said as he started to walk away. Grimacing, Chloe pulled out into the street again and got into the turn lane at the intersection ahead. It didn't take her long to get back, and she saw Jack enter the store just before she pulled into the empty space nearest the door.

The pharmaceutical section of the supermarket was almost empty except for one old lady waiting at the counter for a prescription. Jack had disappeared, and Chloe looked for him at the same time as for the aspirin. She'd barely found the aisle where the painkillers were located when someone came up beside her, putting his right arm around her shoulders.

"Don't scream, I've got a gun," Jack said, pulling her away from the shelves and propelling her in the direction of the pharmacy counter.

Chloe glanced down first and saw the gun in his left hand, pointing directly at her stomach, then looked him directly in the face. With his hood up and sunglasses hiding his eyes, she thought she probably wouldn't have recognized him if she hadn't known him so well. She was about to demand what he thought he was doing, but Jack ordered, "Don't talk. Just come with me."

Side by side, they walked to the counter, where the old lady was just leaving. The pharmacist was a woman; she gave them both a friendly smile and asked, "Hi, what can I do for you to-day?"

"This is a hold-up," Jack said, lifting the gun so that the pharmacist could see it, then jabbing it into Chloe's jaw. "You call the police or set off any alarms, and the lady dies."

The pharmacist looked flummoxed for a moment, then lifted both her hands. "O—Okay. Don't shoot – don't – just tell me what you want."

"I need gentamicin sulfate injectible solution, enough for six days," Jack said, and the pharmacist nodded, but didn't do anything.

"Now!" Jack said, putting more intensity into his voice without actually raising it, and the woman scrambled away to the shelves in the back.

When she returned, she was holding two boxes, and Jack asked, "You got needles and syringes there?"

"I – I can find some," the woman answered, her voice shaking.

"Do it. And put everything in a bag."

The pharmacist found a paper sack, put the boxes in, then disappeared into the back again for a moment. When she came out again, she was holding one carton between her arm and her ribs, and was using her hands to open another. Her fingers were awkward, no doubt shaking in sheer terror, and the contents fell out, scattering over the counter. Gasping, she glanced up, clearly expecting Jack to shoot either Chloe or her or both of them. Chloe felt the pressure on her jawbone disappear as Jack lifted the gun and gestured with it.

The woman made a grab for the individually wrapped packages, stuffing them randomly into the sack, then simply dumped the other carton in without bothering to open it.

"Take it," Jack ordered. Chloe reached out at the same time that the woman pushed the sack towards her, and their hands collided in the middle. Again, the pharmacist shot Jack a look of horror. Chloe wanted to roll her eyes.

Jack said, "Turn around, sit down on the floor, and start counting to five hundred, slowly. Remember, if anybody tries to stop me, this lady dies."

Chloe just had time to see the pharmacist nod and start turning before Jack wheeled her away from the counter. He'd lowered the gun, and now he hid it between their bodies; she could still feel it through her coat.

"Put your hand around my waist," Jack said quietly, resting his head on top of hers.

Chloe reached her free hand around his back just as a store employee passed them with the kind of smile that screamed "Awww, isn't that sweet!" Realizing they probably looked like a pair of lovers joined at the hip, Chloe gave a mental snort. As if! Assuming Jack was even thinking about that sort of thing at all, he was probably remembering Audrey, the girlfriend he'd left behind when he'd dropped off the grid.

A few more steps took them through the automatic door and out to the car. Jack had been getting heavier and slower, and Chloe was glad to let go of him so that she could get out the keyring that her parents had loaned her. She'd barely unlocked the car when he opened the back door and got in, plopping down on the seat like a sack of grain.

"Don't go straight home," he cautioned as she turned the key. "Drive around a bit, make sure we're not being followed."

Glancing over her shoulder as she backed out of the parking space, Chloe saw him lay down across the back seat. She took a circuitous route back to her parents' house, watching every car behind her, but as far as she could tell, nobody was following. After she'd ascertained that there wasn't even a police car in the entire neighbourhood, let alone in her parents' street, she pulled into the driveway and stopped the engine.

Jack hadn't sat up yet, and Chloe turned around to look at him. "Jack?"

His eyes were closed, but now they fluttered once or twice. Starting to feel worried, Chloe opened her door and got out, then opened the back door. "Jack?"

Slowly, he raised his head and looked around.

"We're safe," she told him. Then, because he still looked disoriented, she added, "We're back at my parents' house."

Very gingerly, Jack sat up and eased himself out of the car, supporting himself with one hand on the door while he tucked the gun away in the back waistband of his pants. "Chloe, you got the antibiotics?"

"Right here," she said, showing him the sack.

"Okay."

After Jack had taken three steps in the direction of the house, Chloe sidled up to him. "Come here before you fall down."

He didn't reply, just leaned on her as he had done in the store. They went inside and were halfway across the living room when Chloe's mom came out from the kitchen.

"There you are!" she exclaimed. "Did you remember the celery that I asked you to get, Chloe?"


	4. Chapter 4

Thank you again for all the replies, Mandy543, Eleanor J., Bubble-Sheep, Claire M C, woods, Bad Hat Harry, farmqt, chezlovesyou, and last but by no means least, beauty0102! To answer your questions, more is coming soon, I'm working on a new story even now, and although this isn't exactly going to end up like your basic Jack/Chloe romance, I'm still glad I could help change somebody's mind about them.

(happy face)

"Celery?" Chloe asked. "Jeeze, you know, I completely forgot. I kinda got held up at the pharmacy, helping get Frank some medicine."

As they continued to the hall, Chloe produced the keys to the car and held them out. Instead of taking them, however, Chloe's mother asked, "Would you mind going out again, honey bunny? Chicken soup just doesn't work without celery."

"Mom, would you please not call me that?" Chloe whined.

From the kitchen, her father called out, "Your mother can call you anything she pleases, as long as she doesn't call you late for dinner."

"It's kinda sweet," Jack piped up. Chloe shot him a glare intended to transmit every last bit of her sense of betrayal, then gave him a nudge with her hip. Better to get him out of the way before he went even further over to her parents' side and started calling her that, too.

"Okay, okay, I'll get the celery in a few minutes," she said. "I just need to help Frankenstein here first."

Neither Jack nor her mother responded to the jab, but Chloe thought she heard a chuckle from the kitchen. Rolling her eyes, Chloe guided Jack into the bedroom and helped him lower himself to the bed. She reached for the door to shut it, making sure that her mother was no longer in the hall, then came back and dumped the contents of the paper sack onto the pillow at the same time that Jack slipped his gun underneath it.

"This stuff needs to be injected?" she asked, lifting up the box of gentamicin sulfate and discovering that it was a broad spectrum antibiotic. "I guess you can do that yourself. You must be pretty good at that sort of thing, after your heroin addiction."

Jack had starting used heroin as part of an undercover operation, but then he'd continued to use after his cover had been blown, keeping it secret from the rest of CTU. Chloe had always wondered just how much of the addiction had been due to the operation, however, and how much had been to dull the pain of having lost his wife a few years previously. But Jack had never talked about it, and Chloe had never had the chance to tell him that she wouldn't have blamed him. Pain, especially emotional pain, could be, well, painful. To put it mildly.

Not hearing an answer, Chloe realized that she'd said something wrong. Again. "That was inappropriate. Sorry."

Obviously having decided to ignore her as he usually did when her mouth got ahead of her brain, Jack sighed and said, "Yeah, I can do it myself, if I can just get to the vein in my arm."

He unzipped the coat, and Chloe reached out automatically to help him slide it off. Underneath, he was wearing his own jacket, which also had to be opened and eased down his arms. Then there was the pullover and his long-sleeved shirt, and Chloe looked at them in dismay. Were they wide enough that he could roll up the sleeves, or would she have to take them off and put them back on him again?

"Actually, Chloe, it'd be easier if – you could inject it?" Jack asked. "Please?"

His voice had taken on a hesitant, pleading note that she'd never heard from him before. Chloe was used to him just giving orders and expecting them to be carried out. If he occasionally asked if she were okay, it was only partly because he might be worried about her personally. The other part was because he wondered if she were still capable of doing her job. He'd never shown her any vulnerability and had never asked for something that he wasn't capable of doing himself, until now.

"Well, I guess I can," she said, scowling to hide her smile and reaching for the antibiotic. "How much do you need?"

Jack attached the needle to a syringe, his hands shaking ever so slightly, then plunged it into the glass vial and drew out a dose. Showing her the amount, he carefully handed it over, then twisted around so that he was facing away from her. She heard a quick zipping sound, and then he inserted his thumb into the waistband over his hip pocket, pulling both jeans and boxers down enough to reveal a handspan of buttock.

Chloe stuck the needle in about half an inch and depressed the plunger.

"Check the time, the next one should be in eight hours," Jack said gruffly. "And find a jar or something for the used needles."

"Sure," said Chloe, laying the used syringe on the nightstand, then standing up and opening the door.

There was a deliciously chicken-y smell coming from the stove in the kitchen and Chloe stopped to sniff at the soup pot as she reached for an empty jam jar.

"Can you get a bag of those little marshmallows, too, for the candied yams?" her mother asked. "Here, let me write it down so you don't forget again. And could you ask Frank what his favourite kind of pie is, in case we have to buy anything for that?"

"Pecan," Chloe said automatically, because pecan pie was her own favourite.

"I could tell he likes nuts," her father said, turning over a page of his newspaper. "He likes you, after all."

"Dad," Chloe warned.

"Stuart," her mother said, pursing her lips.

"Or maybe he'd prefer a fruitcake," her father snickered, "like I do."

Her mother threatened him with a wooden spoon, a look of loving exasperation on her face, then turned back to Chloe. "It won't hurt to ask him."

Chloe rolled her eyes. "All right, all right."

When she got back to the bedroom, Chloe wished she'd taken a gas mask home from CTU. The aroma of boiling chicken had been forcedly displaced by the stench of smelly socks, even though Jack only had one shoe off and was struggling with the other one. Putting the jar on the nightstand, Chloe reached out to help, just as Jack dropped the shoe to the floor. She was quicker to grab the blankets, however, as he stretched out on the bed. Tucking them in around his neck, Chloe asked, "What's your favourite kind of pie?"

Adjusting the blankets slightly, Jack looked up at her in confusion. "Pie?"

"Pie. You know, like pecan pie? My mom wants to make one for you." Chloe hoped that he didn't name anything yucky, like rhubarb.

Jack closed his eyes, and for a moment, Chloe thought he was going to fall asleep and simply not answer. That would be okay, too. Then, quietly, he said, "Teri used to make a pie for Thanksgiving … with raspberries and blackberries and cherries … it was the best thing I'd ever tasted."

"Raspberries, blackberries, and cherries," Chloe repeated. She'd never heard Jack talk about his wife before. She wasn't even sure if she'd known that her name was Teri. At the risk of being inappropriate, again, she reached out and laid her hand on Jack's shoulder, giving it what she hoped was a comforting squeeze. She watched as a single tear formed in the corner of Jack's eye and eventually ran down the side of his nose. Using her sleeve, Chloe blotted it away.

Jack reached one hand out from under the covers and caught her wrist as she was about to pull it away. He used her fingers to stroke his own cheek, then sheltered her hand inside his and held it against his jawbone.

"Thanks," he murmured. Chloe hesitated, certain that he was dreaming of his wife, but then he added, "For everything, Chloe."


	5. Chapter 5

And again, thank you to everybody who reviewed! Eleanor J., HannahCimsGwendolyn, chezlovesyou, beauty0102, Claire M C and beauty 0102! As for when Jack is going to get that shower, stay tuned!

(happy face)

Chloe awoke to the sound of soft, stealthy footsteps across the living room floor. It was too quiet and too dark for it to be morning already, and her parents wouldn't be taking such pains to unlock the front door with a minimum of noise. Easing herself out from under the covers, she stood up and stuck her finger into Jack's ribs.

"Don't move, I've got a gun," she said.

Jack froze with genuine uncertainty just long enough for Chloe to reach under his jacket and find his weapon exactly where she'd hoped it would be, tucked into the back waistband of his pants.

"Chloe –" Jack said.

Chloe reached for the light switch, and Jack turned around to face her. As she'd expected, he had his bag slung over his shoulder, and Chloe scowled at it. "Jack, where do you think you're headed at three in the morning?"

"Look, Chloe," he said. "I've got the bullet out, I've got the antibiotics, there's no reason for me to stay. Now give me the gun and let me go."

He held out his hand, but Chloe ignored it. "Jack, a few hours ago, you couldn't even walk without my help."

"The antibiotics have kicked in. I'm doing better."

"Well enough to walk five miles to the bus station?" Chloe exhaled huffily through her nose.

"I was gonna call a cab," Jack explained. "From a payphone."

"I already told you I'd drive you."

"Then get your shoes on and let's go."

For once, Chloe didn't respond to the tone of command. Instead, she clicked the safety off and pointed the gun at him. "No, you take your shoes off."

"What?" Jack asked, putting his hands up.

"Take them off," she repeated, "and slide them over there by the couch, or I'll shoot you in the leg."

Grudgingly, Jack bent down and used one hand to untie the laces while keeping the other hand up. He stepped out of the shoes and nudged them towards the couch with his foot, revealing a hole in the toe of his sock.

"Take your jacket off and put it on the couch," Chloe went on, making a mental note to do some emergency Christmas shopping at a more reasonable hour of the day. "And your bag."

Jack did so, and Chloe stepped aside, gesturing with the gun. "Back to the bedroom."

When they were both inside, Chloe said, "Lay down."

Jack stretched out on the bed, and Chloe used the moment to shut the door and click the safety back on at the same time. Feeling for the corner of the desk and then the back of the chair, she laid the gun carefully on the floor underneath it, then walked over to the bed.

"Scoot over, up against the wall," she said. "And get comfortable; you're going to be there for a while."

Then she lifted the covers and got in next to him. He'd turned onto his right side, facing away from her, and she put one hand around his waist. In one aspect, he was right about the antibiotics having started work, even after such a short time. He wasn't nearly as fevered as he'd been, but there were still other things to consider. "Jack, you're not in any condition to go back out on the streets. I'm gonna make sure that you stay here until after Christmas."

He was silent, and Chloe went on, "You don't have to celebrate with us, you know, if it's gonna make you uncomfortable. You can hide in here the whole time if you want, but you're staying, so get used to the idea."

"The longer I stay here, the harder it will be for me to leave," Jack said quietly, laying his hand on top of hers.

"I know." Chloe mentally amended the sentence to "the harder it will be for me to let you go," then sighed. "I know."


	6. Chapter 6

Thank you again for all the replies, beauty0102, farmqt, chezlovesyou, and Claire M C. Now of course you can think whatever you want, but in my version of things, they just fell asleep fully clothed, and there wasn't any "action."

Here's a slightly boring part.

(hopeful face)

"Chloe?"

"Hm?"

"I have to get up."

"Oh, sorry." Still half asleep, Chloe struggled upright, and Jack eased his way out of the bed next to her. As soon as the bathroom door had shut behind him, Chloe's mother came out of the kitchen and stood in the hall just outside the bedroom.

"How's Frank doing?" she asked.

"He's getting better," Chloe said.

"I knew that chicken soup would help." Her mother beamed, then held out a neatly folded pile of blue material. "I've found a sweatsuit that your father used to wear. It's old, but it's clean. Frank can wear it while we wash his other clothes."

"All right, I'll give it to him." Chloe stood up and took the clothing, not missing her mother's glance towards the towels and shower soap that were still on the dresser. "And I know he stinks, so I'll tell him again to take a shower."

She decided to wait, however, until she had had the chance to use the bathroom. When she came back into the bedroom, Jack had retrieved his jacket and bag, and was unpacking the antibiotics, placing everything neatly back in the drawer.

"Where'd you put the gun?" Jack asked quietly.

"Under the chair by the desk," Chloe told him. Since she was closer, she reached down and picked it up, but Jack was there almost immediately to take it from her.

"If you shoot me in the leg, I won't be able to shower," he pointed out.

"I wasn't going to," Chloe said. "Jeeze. But speaking of water, my mom said you can wear that while we wash your clothes."

"Thanks." Jack looked over at the sweatsuit, then indicated his pullover. "Could you help me out here?"

Chloe helped him strip down to the waist, and was pleased to notice that his movements weren't as tentative as they'd been before. "Should I check your wound? Just so you know whether we have to, you know, amputate or not."

"Yeah," said Jack with the hint of a smile. "If you have to amputate, I definitely want to know."

Carefully peeling away the adhesive tape and the gauze, Chloe peered at the wound. There was still some swelling and redness, but it had definitely decreased in comparison to the last time she'd seen it. "Well, I'm not a doctor, but I think it's looking better. I'll put another bandage on it when you get out."

"Good." Jack started to unzip his pants.

After he'd wrapped up in one of the towels and disappeared into the shower, Chloe gathered up his smelly clothes, then took them downstairs and stuffed them into the washing machine.

When she came up from the basement, her father was in the kitchen, standing at the stove. "Hey, Chloe, you want some waffles with butter and syrup?"

"Yeah," she replied.

"Me, too," he said, coming to the table. "Why don't you make some?"

Chloe scowled at him, and her mother, who was measuring flour into the food processor, asked, "Didn't I make oatmeal already?"

"I didn't see any," her father said, and Chloe also noted the absence of any pots on the stove.

"Oh, dear, don't tell me I forgot!"

"It's okay, mom, I'll make waffles," Chloe said.

"Could you?" her mother asked. "Then I'd have the chance to put a few things in the washer."

"I've just put Frank's clothes in," Chloe told her, pulling out the waffle iron and plugging it in.

"I'll put them in the hamper, then. Don't let me forget to change the wash when it's time."

Chloe found the recipe and began to assemble her ingredients. She'd just finished pouring the batter for the last waffle when she heard the bathroom door open, and then the bedroom door. Good timing, she thought to herself. As soon as the waffle was finished, she lifted it off, juggling it in her hands and taking small bites as she walked down the hall.

"Brrr," Chloe cried out involuntarily as she entered the bedroom. A new pattern of sheets and blankets met her eye immediately and gave her a clue to what had happened; her mother had obviously opened the window in an attempt to fumigate the room while changing the bedding.

"Yeah," Jack said, coming away from the window, one hand still holding the towel around his waist.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know my mother was going to do that," she told him.

"I don't blame her," Jack said.

"Well, let me get that bandage on you, and then you can get dressed and get warm," Chloe said. "Do you want me to put hydrogen peroxide on it again?"

"Once was enough," Jack said. While Chloe got out the bandages, Jack slipped into the sweat pants, then sat down on the bed and presented his back to her.

"It's bleeding again, a little bit." Chloe dabbed at the bullet hole with one square of gauze, then took a second one to shelter the wound with. "There."

She helped Jack pull on the hooded blue sweat jacket, and then he turned around to face her. "Thanks."

"Don't thank me now, you haven't had your shot yet."

"I've still got two hours before I need the next one," Jack said.

"You gave yourself one in the night?" Chloe asked, reckoning back six hours and feeling strangely disappointed.

"I didn't want to wake you," he said. He reached forward and pulled a strand of Chloe's hair out of her eyes, tucking it behind her ear and letting his hand linger on her neck. "But I'm glad I did."


	7. Chapter 7

Another big thank you to my loyal readers: chezlovesyou, Claire M C, Hannah, happyhooligan2001, and beauty0102. In answer to your question, Claire, about whether there is something wrong with Chloe's mother, I would have to say she's shy and she's not quite certain how to treat Jack, so she perfers to deal with him through Chloe. She's also a bit stressed because it's Christmas. Perhaps I didn't write her well enough, for which I apologize. I have to admit, I was concentrating on Jack and Chloe.

Here's the next part!

(smirky face)

"Have you already made the rice pudding, mom?" Chloe asked as soon as supper was over.

"No," Chloe's mother said with a sigh. "I thought maybe we should wait until to-morrow, when Irene and the boys can be here."

Irene was Chloe's sister, and she had called up just after noon with the bad news that one of her sons had tried a kamikaze maneuver on the stairs and possibly broken his collarbone. Instead of driving from Detroit to Kalamazoo, Irene's family had been doomed to spend the afternoon of Christmas Eve in the emergency room, and were currently planning to try the journey again the next morning.

"No," Chloe said firmly. Ever since she'd heard about her sister's delay, a plan for that rice pudding had been forming in her mind, and she wasn't going to have it foiled now. "It's Christmas Eve, mom. Rice pudding is our Christmas Eve tradition."

"We've already put off our Christmas feast, and I'm turning into a grinch without my roast beast," her father said, laughing at his own rhyme. "Come on, Sue, make my heart grow three sizes to-day, or at least my wallet, and let's have the rice pudding."

Chloe's mother sighed tiredly, and Chloe took her chance. "I'll make it," she volunteered, "and while it's cooking, we can watch The Grinch. The real Grinch."

"Thank you, Chloe," her mother said, giving in gracefully. Chloe stood up, reaching for the plates to take with her into the kitchen, and Jack stood up as well. "I can help with the dishes."

Chloe scowled, and poked at him with a fork.

"You're sick, remember?" she told him. "And you're a guest, so sit down and suffer!"

He sat down again slowly, and Chloe turned to her father. "Dad, tell him how the rice pudding works."

When she'd finished bringing the rice to a boil, and had placed all the dirty dishes in the dishwasher, Chloe came back into the living room. _The Grinch Who Stole Christmas_ had become another of their Christmas Eve traditions shortly after the invention of the video recorder, and she slid the now-ancient cassette into the machine.

"Did you ever watch this with your family, Frank?" Chloe's mother asked as it began.

Jack hesitated, then shook his head. "I watched it when I was a kid, but I don't think I've seen it since then."

"Quiet, here comes my favourite part," Chloe's father said.

"Dad, don't sing," Chloe warned him.

"Hey, didn't you tell our guest he had to sit here and suffer?" Chloe's dad began to sing along, making Chloe cringe, then stopped after a few bars. "Okay, he's suffered enough."

"Maybe CTU could hire your father for interrogations?" Chloe's mother asked in a very sweet tone of voice, and to Chloe's absolute shock, Jack burst out laughing. Chloe turned her head and gaped at him. She'd never seen Jack laugh. She'd hardly ever seen him smile, but she'd never once considered the fact that he might actually be capable of laughing. If anything, she would have thought that laughter died whenever Jack Bauer was around.

Still smiling, Jack caught her eye, and Chloe felt herself smile back. Maybe her father's singing wasn't such a bad thing, after all.

The film ended, and eventually, the rice pudding was finished. Chloe put the finishing touches to it, then brought the bowl out to the dining room table.

"So, did my father tell you how this works?" Chloe asked as she slid into her seat.

"Yes," Jack affirmed.

"All right. I'll dish up," Chloe said. She carved out a large portion of pudding and used a spatula to scrape it cleanly off the serving spoon and into the dessert dish. When the last bit of pudding had been served, she made a show of mixing the dishes and handing them out at random to everybody. All the while, however, she was keeping her eye on a certain dish, one that had a tiny dark spot in the porcelain close to the rim, and that was the dish that she handed over to Jack.

"Let's start digging for gold," her father said as he did every year, taking his spoon and plunging it in.

There was silence as everybody began to eat. In between bites, Chloe looked around the table, trying not to stare too openly at Jack. She couldn't help but notice that her parents were also checking on him at regular intervals.

It seemed to take ages before Jack finally raised his empty spoon to his mouth and carefully spit an almond out onto it.

"Frank's got it!" Chloe's father crowed.

"Twenty dollars for Frank," Chloe said, joining in with her parents as they clapped. When she saw them exchange a significant look, she realized with a sinking feeling that they'd actually expected this particular outcome.

"Or a kiss from somebody at the table," Chloe's father added.

"What?" Chloe exclaimed, stopping in the act of reaching for her purse.

"That's what I told you, right, Frank? Cash or kiss?" her father asked.

Jack nodded. "That's what you said."

"Dad, what have you been telling him?" Chloe demanded. Her father smirked silently, and Chloe went on. "Whoever gets the almond in their rice pudding gets twenty dollars, that's the way it's always been. You can't go around changing tradition, just like that!"

"Yes, I can," he replied. "Remember when we stopped giving little presents and started giving cash instead?"

"Well, yeah, but … that was different."

"Present, cash or kiss, Chloe, it's still a prize," her mother put in, her eyes twinkling as she looked over to Jack. Chloe's suspicions were confirmed; while she'd been in the kitchen, trying to manipulate the position of the almond, her parents had been in the dining room, setting up their own plan to trick her and Jack. She wondered briefly why they hadn't been recruited to work for the government.

"You guys are ganging up on me. This is really inappropriate." Chloe wanted to scream that they were ruining all her plans, but she had to settle for a scowl instead. "All right, fine. Whatever."

She dug in her purse, pulled out the fifty dollar bill she'd got from the money machine earlier that day, then turned to Jack and waved it enticingly. There was still hope that he would take it. "Sorry, I haven't got anything smaller. So … what's it going to be?"

She almost said his name, but remembered in time, and hastily added, "Frank?"

Jack was still for a very long moment, and then he put the almond carefully on the tablecloth. "I'll … consider my options and inform you later of my decision."


	8. Chapter 8

Thank you again for all the replies! Nice to see you again, Bubble-Sheep and InkSmuggler. Hannah, you'll soon find out which prize Jack chooses. Hello, tigster5, nice to have you on board. Thanks, chezlovesyou, I'm glad you're enjoying Chloe with her family. Happyhooligan2001, I think you're right, a kiss is worth more than any amount of money. Never fear, beauty0102, I do update on a fairly regular schedule.

Oh, I see what you mean, Claire M C. No, Chloe's mom is not developing Alzheimers. She just got caught up in the Christmas stress of making rolls and pies, and cleaning, and everything else, and completely forgot about breakfast. Sorry, I should have made that more clear.

I did finish posting this on the 24 forum, iwantproof. Check post 83 for the next part after the one you mentioned, or wait and finish reading it here.

And now, here's what you've all been waiting for!

(gleeful face)

Creeping across the porch to the front door, Chloe stopped and listened. The house was dark and there was no sound from within. Relieved, she inserted the key and turned it ever so slowly in the lock, expecting to find both Jack and her parents still deeply asleep and completely unaware of her nighttime expedition. But as she entered the living room and eased the door shut, supporting it so that it wouldn't squeak, her hopes were destroyed.

"Chloe." Jack's voice came out of the darkness, just loud enough for her to hear, and startled her immensely. Chloe bit down a scream, and when she'd recovered enough to speak, she hissed, "Jack!"

"What have you been doing?" Jack asked. She heard his footsteps come in her direction, and then he switched on the lights.

"Nothing." Wondering if she'd caught him again in the act of trying to slip out in the middle of the night, Chloe gave him a quick sizing-up, but he was only wearing a pair of sweatpants. "What have you been doing?"

He ignored her question. "Chloe, where have you been?"

"Getting a Christmas present," she admitted, slipping off her coat.

"At one in the morning?" Jack didn't exactly scoff, but he did sound openly disbelieving. "Why couldn't you have got it when you were out earlier?"

"Because it hadn't come yet, and I couldn't go later because I wanted to give it to you to-morrow. I mean, to-day. For Christmas."

Jack looked confused, and Chloe took pity on him. "Here, I guess I can give it to you now; it's technically Christmas morning."

She dug the small photo out of her wallet and handed it over. As he stared down at it, Jack's expression changed to one of longing, and after a long moment, he whispered, "Kim."

Then Jack put out his arms and enveloped Chloe in a big hug. "Chloe, thank you."

His voice sounded quavery, as though he were holding back tears, and Chloe hugged him back, trying not to get her arms near his bullet wound. She couldn't help savouring the feel of his body against hers, and enjoying the scent of his skin. If only … she thought randomly, but before she could define her wish, Jack let go. Stepping back, he looked down at the photo again, then up at her. "This is new – where'd you get it?"

"I called Tony and Michelle yesterday," she said. Tony Almeida and Michelle Dessler were the only other people who knew that Jack Bauer was alive. Jack had needed their help, along with Chloe's, to fake his death and disappear. "They don't work at CTU any longer, you know, they've set up their own business now. I asked them if they couldn't get a little picture of Kim for you – break into her house and steal one if they had to. Tony had a better idea, he said they asked her out for lunch to-day, and Michelle took a few pictures. This one was the best. They say hi, by the way."

Jack glanced up sharply. "They know I'm here with you?"

"I said I'd been in touch, and would have the chance to get a few things to you, that's all," Chloe said. She yawned ferociously, then added, "I didn't tell them where you are."

Jack nodded, staring down at the photo again. "Chloe, you have no idea how much I appreciate this."

She smiled, infinitely pleased that she'd done the right thing for once. Taking off her boots, she said, "I'm glad it got here in time for me to give it to you for Christmas. Tony and Michelle sent the picture as fast as they could, I guess, but the time zones made a difference, and then we were busy with supper and everything. I couldn't print it out here, so I had to find an internet café that was open. I hope I didn't wake you up."

"No," Jack said. "I wasn't asleep. I came out here to talk to you, and heard you drive away."

"Oh," said Chloe. She went over to the folded-out couch and sat down on the edge, then patted the space next to her. "What did you want to talk about?"

Jack sat down as well, turning to face her, then extended his left hand. Looking down, Chloe saw the almond in his palm, and realization dawned. "Oh, you want your fifty dollars."

"No, actually," Jack said with a little smile, "I was hoping for a kiss."

Chloe scowled. She'd gone to so much trouble to be able to slip that extra money to Jack and now he wasn't taking it. She'd have to find another way to get it to him. "Well, all right, if that's what you choose."

He leaned forward, placing one hand on the side of her neck with his thumb just in front of her ear, then kissed her tenderly on the lips. Having expected something like a grandfatherly peck on the cheek, Chloe felt as though she'd been zapped by a taser. She was still conscious and aware of everything, but she couldn't respond, couldn't think, couldn't move. Funny that her lips were still able to react somewhat.

"Gosh, Jack, I didn't know you knew how to kiss," Chloe heard herself babble as soon as Jack broke contact.

He looked at her and burst into laughter. With mirth still audible in his voice, he said, "Kim wasn't adopted, you know."

"I know that," Chloe retorted, piqued more at herself for letting her mouth run ahead of her brain than at Jack's answer. "It's just that I've never seen you laugh before, or kiss before, which is okay, because we only ever saw each other at CTU, and that would have been really weird, but here you are, doing both things on the same day, and it's just kind of surprising, you know."

Jack was smiling again, and now he whispered huskily, "I didn't know you could kiss, either, Chloe."

"Well, I can't, and I know you're disappointed, and I'm sorry."

"Don't be. There's nothing to be sorry for." Jack was shaking his head ever so slightly, but Chloe went on.

"I'm not sorry you kissed me, it was really good, I'm just sorry you didn't get anything out of it. I know you'd rather be kissing Audrey, 'cause I'll bet she's a really good kisser."

Jack's smile vanished, and Chloe knew at once that she'd said something wrong, yet again. She just didn't know what it was. At work, she was used to people reacting irritably or even angrily to her all the time, but she'd never said anything that had hurt anybody – that she knew of, at least. This time it was as though she'd physically wounded Jack. She could see it, and the thought made her feel sick.

"I'm sorry," she said, letting her shoulders slump. "I always say stupid things. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Audrey thinks I'm dead, and even if she knew I was alive, she wouldn't want to be near me," Jack said quietly. "I'm responsible for her husband's death, I'm responsible for him getting shot, I tortured him for information right in front of her. She told me she couldn't deal with that, and I can't blame her."

"I'll bet you still miss her," Chloe said.

"Yeah," Jack replied. "Yeah, I still miss her, but she told me to leave. I killed our relationship when I let Paul die."

They sat in silence for a moment, and then Chloe yawned. It was contagious; Jack yawned, too, then stood up. "Chloe, thanks again for the picture of Kim."

"You're welcome," she said.

He crossed the living room, but when he got to hall, he turned around again. "And whoever told you that you couldn't kiss? They were wrong."


	9. Chapter 9

I'm so glad everybody liked the last chapter, and thank you for telling me. Bubble-Sheep, this story has two more updates after this one, so we're very close to the end now. Hannah, thank you so much for that praise.  And thank you, tigster5, chezlovesyou, beauty0102, and Claire M C. And a big welcome to Screwball McNalley. Thanks for reading!

(Santa face)

"Hey, let me help you with that," Jack said.

Chloe accepted his help with setting the table. It was almost two in the afternoon, and Irene and her family were supposed to be there soon, but Chloe was barely thinking about them. Ever since last night, she hadn't been able to stop replaying that kiss in her mind. And the compliment. It made her smile every time she remembered Jack's words.

Catching her eye, Jack held up two Tupperware glasses. He'd obviously caught her smiling, because he smiled back in a quizzical way. Chloe scowled in embarrassment and snarled, "What?"

"Where do these go?"

"Over there," she said, indicating two place settings on her left. "That's where the boys will be sitting."

Comparing the Tupperware to the lead crystal glasses that everybody else was getting, Jack nodded knowingly. "How old are they?"

"They're almost twelve. Twins." Chloe lowered her voice, glancing towards the kitchen to make sure nobody was lurking in the doorway to hear. "And whatever you do, don't mention you were in the military. Tell them you worked as a janitor for the IRS or something boring like that."

Jack gave her a look of confusion. "Why?"

Before Chloe could explain, the front door banged open and two figures dressed in fatigues and wearing gas masks burst into the house. They were each holding small rifles, and when they caught sight of Chloe and Jack, they took better aim. Catching movement out of the corner of her eye, Chloe looked over at Jack. He was standing with his hands behind his head, his fingers interlaced, watching the intruders very carefully. Obviously, he had no idea who they were, but he wasn't taking any chances. She was just about to tell him when one of the soldiers yelled at her, "Hands up!"

His juvenile voice completely shattered the image both boys were trying so hard to project, and Chloe wanted to laugh until she glanced over to Jack again. He'd lowered his hands and his face was blank, but she had the feeling that something was wrong as he bent down to pick up the silverware he'd dropped.

"Justin, Ben, those better not be loaded," she told the boys sternly.

"Naw," Justin said.

"Where's Grandma and Grandpa?" Ben asked. Justin turned to look at him, silently pointing to his eyes with two fingers, and then used the same two fingers to indicate the doorway that led into the kitchen. A moment later, they were leaping through it with another cry of "Hands up!" and Chloe heard a shriek of terror that was only half pretend.

"Merry Christmas, Chloe," Irene said, coming in through the door with a covered tray in both hands, and shopping bags dangling from her wrists. Jack met her halfway across the living room.

"Here, let me take that," he said.

"Well, thank you, and a Merry Christmas to you, too," Irene cooed. Chloe scowled. Irene's husband was right behind her, but there she was, cooing at Jack. It made Chloe wish she'd learned how to vomit on command.

"Merry Christmas, Dennis," Chloe said pointedly, making her voice sound anything but joyous. "Merry Christmas, Irene. I want you to meet my friend --"

"Nope, Chloe, don't tell me. This just has to be –" Irene paused for effect – "Edgar Stiles!"

Chloe scowled even deeper.

"Frank Flynn. Excuse me." After introducing himself, Jack whirled away, taking the tray into the kitchen at the speed people usually reserved for escaping CTU when they were afraid that their boss was going to come after them with a demand for overtime. Chloe stared after him.

"Well, tell me all about him," Irene demanded, demanding her attention again.

"There's nothing to tell." Chloe listened for sounds of Jack coming back, but the excited chatter of her nephews in the kitchen drowned out everything else. Turning to her sister's husband, Chloe asked. "So, Dennis, how was the trip to the emergency room yesterday?"

"Nightmare," he grunted. Like many men who married voluble women, he was a good listener and spoke little.

"Ben's collarbone is definitely broken," Irene put in smoothly. "They couldn't put his whole shoulder in plaster, so they've given him a kind of harness to wear to keep it in place. They call it a little backpack. Ben was so brave, though, and barely cried at all. We gave him some painkillers this morning, even though he said commandos don't believe in aspirin, and you can see he's back to normal. But don't think you can get away with changing the subject, Chloe. Tell me more about Frank and why he's celebrating Christmas here with us."

"He was travelling, he came down with the flu, and we met up in Chicago," Chloe reported succinctly. "I invited him home so that he could recover here."

Irene smirked a little. "And he survived your bedside manner? But hey, if it doesn't kill you, it makes you stronger, right? That's what the boys are always telling me."

"The boys are really tall, aren't they?" Chloe remarked. "That's really unusual for their age."

"Well, look at Dennis, do you think he's going to father shrimpy kids?" Irene asked, beaming as she stared up at her husband. Then she leaned closer and lowered her voice, "Now, no more changing the subject, Chloe. Tell us how you know this Frank."

Chloe was saved from answering by her mother, who came out of the kitchen carrying a steaming pan of candied yams. The boys followed, one holding a basket of rolls, and the other a jello salad. They had taken off their gas masks, and Chloe could see that they both sported military hair cuts. It reminded her of Jack's hair, which was a little too long, and she made up her mind to ask him if he wanted a trim before he disappeared again.

"Grandma, can we open the presents before we eat?" asked Ben.

"No," Chloe's mother replied.

"Can we eat dessert first?" asked Justin.

"No," Chloe's mother replied again.

"Grandpa always says life is short and we should eat dessert first," Justin tried to argue.

"And Grandpa is always right," Chloe's father stated, carrying a pie into the dining room and placing it on one of the dinner plates. He proceded to sit down at that place setting, and picked up a knife and fork.

"Well, do you know what I say to Grandpa? If you don't sit down and eat this dinner first, I'll make sure your life is short," Chloe's mother said, moving the pie to the last empty space on the table. Chloe's father feigned disappointment, and the boys laughed.

"Now put those guns away, boys, and everybody sit down. Chloe, where's Frank?"

"Why are you asking me, when he was in the kitchen with you?" Chloe retorted. Seeing that everybody was looking at her and nobody was answering, she sighed. "All right, I'll go look for him."

She went down the hall and tapped on the bedroom door. "Frank?"

To her surprise, he came out of the bathroom. "Just washing my hands."

"I'm sorry about the kids," Chloe said quietly. "I hope you didn't think it was the Chinese or somebody, coming to get you."

Jack gave her a quick, sheepish smile. "Just for a moment."

The simple admission worried Chloe. "I should have warned you about their little obsession, but I didn't know they were gonna come in the house like a tac team."

"Didja really think we were like a tac team, Aunt Chloe?" Justin asked, coming up from behind.

"Didja really?" Ben chimed in.

"Jeeze, how would I know what a tac team looks like?" Chloe demanded, annoyed at being interrupted. "I'm in coms, I don't do field work. Now go on, go attack Grandma's turkey and stuffing."

"Sir, yes, sir!" Justin replied. They raced back down the hall, shouting, "We are a go, repeat, we are a go!"

"You all right?" Chloe asked Jack.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he replied. "We all survived."

He didn't say that he would have fired if he'd had his gun on him at the time, and Chloe, having decided that she'd rather be sheltered from the answer, didn't ask.


	10. Chapter 10

I seem to be having trouble _again_ with submitting this document, so I apologize for any lateness in updating.

Thanks for the reviews, chezlovesyou, Hannah, Claire M C, tigster5, happyhooligan2001, and beauty0102! I never thought about the twins being the image of Jack, but it's true, isn't it. For his own safety, Jack won't be talking to them about his military experience. Being on the run has definitely made him a bit jumpy, and a lot lonely, I think, so he's enjoying any bit of family life he can get while still keeping an eye out for any threats.

(happy face)

"Can you drive me to the bus station?" Jack asked as Chloe backed the car out of the driveway. As she stopped to change gears, she gave him a look. Her mother had asked her to run to the store for some milk, and to her surprise, Jack had asked to come along. Now she knew why.

"Just to buy a ticket," he added hastily.

"When are you planning on leaving?"

Jack turned his head away from her. "To-morrow."

"If you wait until I fly back on the twenty ninth, we can drop you off in Chicago on our way to the airport," Chloe pointed out.

"I've been here long enough already," Jack said quietly, still looking out of the window on his side.

"Just as long as you don't try to sneak out again without saying good-bye," Chloe snapped.

"I'll say good-bye," Jack said. Neither of them looked at each other.

They got the milk, and then Chloe drove downtown. She knew there wasn't any point in trying to find an empty parking space right next to the combined train and bus station, so she steered towards a nearby garage. With shoppers trying to get the after-Christmas sales, the garage was almost full, but she managed to find an empty space close to the top.

Jack took one look at the elevators, then headed for the stairs instead, not saying anything, just expecting Chloe to keep up. She was only a few steps behind him until they got closer to ground level and oncoming pedestrian traffic, and the gap between them widened as she was squeezed to one side by a brawny teenager. As soon as he'd pushed by, Chloe put her foot out for the next step.

She never knew which came first; the pain or the fall. All she knew was that she was hurtling down the stairs until she landed in a sprawled heap, and there was agony radiating from both her ankle and her wrist. Feeling someone next to her, she lifted her head slightly, hoping it was Jack, but it was the teenager. After he'd ripped her purse from her hand, he turned and ran out through the open door that led to the second level of parking.

"Jack," Chloe called out between sobs. Jack had pounded up from the landing below, but to Chloe's surprise, he didn't stop, just leaped over her and raced through the door in pursuit.

Still crying, Chloe pulled herself up to a sitting position, trying not to move her legs as she hugged her arm to her chest. She didn't think she'd ever felt physical pain like that, it wasn't exactly the sort of thing that happened routinely around computers, and frankly, she was surprised at how much it hurt. Her thoughts flew to Jack, and the way he'd calmly laid down and let her take a bullet out of his back. Okay, so he'd twitched a little, and shouted a little, but she didn't think she'd have been able to stand anything of the sort without fainting or trying to run away. Good thing she wasn't a field agent.

"Here's your purse," Jack said, coming back in. "You okay?"

Gritting her teeth, Chloe shook her head. Jack dropped her purse next to her and squatted down. "Where does it hurt?"

"Left ankle," she choked out, suddenly ashamed of her tears and not wanting to cry in front of him. "Right wrist."

"Let me see." He eased her boot off, then felt along her leg. Chloe tensed up as he worked his way down to her ankle, but his touch was gentle.

"I don't think it's broken," he finally announced, letting go of it and reaching for her arm. "Probably just sprained."

"Hey, old man," said a voice from behind Jack. Looking up, Chloe saw that the teenager had returned, with blood under his nose and something in his hand. She screeched a warning, but Jack had already straightened up and was blocking the blow. The piece of pipe fell with a clatter to the asphalt and rolled away, and after a few well-placed punches, the teenager followed it, landing face down and groaning.

"Right wrist, Chloe?" Jack asked, glancing to her for confirmation before walking over to where the pipe had rolled up against the back tire of a car. When he returned with the pipe in his hand, the teenager was trying to get to his feet, but Jack grabbed his right arm and twisted it behind his back, turning his hand outward almost to the breaking point. Chloe watched in horrified fascination as Jack swung the pipe and connected with the boy's wrist. The boy screamed, and Chloe flinched.

Letting go, Jack reached into the boy's back pocket and pulled out his wallet, flipping it open to the driver's license. He leaned down and spoke quietly into the boy's ear. Chloe couldn't hear what he was saying, but it was obviously some kind of threat, because when Jack leaned back, the boy couldn't crawl away fast enough. Jack tossed the wallet beyond him, and with the clumsiness of panic, the teenager used his left hand to grab it before straightening up and starting to run. Looking disgusted, Jack came back to where Chloe was sitting.

"Come on," he said. He leaned down and picked up her purse, then slipped it over his arm and reached for her good hand. "Let's get you back to the car."

The adrenaline rush that Chloe had experienced while watching him in action faded, and the pain returned abruptly. She got awkwardly to her feet, hissing occasionally, and was just about to start hobbling towards the elevators when Jack suddenly started down the stairs.

"Climb on my back," he said, stopping on the third step. "I'll carry you."

"What about that bullet hole?" Chloe asked. "I don't want to hurt you."

"It'll be fine," Jack said. "Come on."

Chloe opted not to be slung around, and leaned forward until she could slide her arms around Jack's neck, then lifted her legs. He caught her immediately, holding her around his waist as easily as though she were a child, and as he carried her to the elevator, she rested her head briefly on top of his, inhaling the clean scent of his hair. Although she wanted to tell him how sexy he was just after he'd beaten up other people on her behalf, she didn't dare. He would be leaving in another day, and it wouldn't be fair to either of them to make it more difficult. Closing her eyes, Chloe concentrated instead on how sheltered she felt, just being so close to him.


	11. Chapter 11

Well, here we are at the end already, and a great big thank you to everybody who's been reading and replying. Welcome aboard Rose12345, and thanks for the compliment! And Screwball McNalley, I'm so glad that you think I got the characters down. I worried quite a lot about that. Thanks also for the compliment about the original plot lines. Oops, sorry, Hannah, I didn't exactly deal with Jack's departure, as you'll see. But thanks for commenting anyway. Tigster5, thanks – I thought that Jack wouldn't let anybody hurt or threaten "his" Chloe. As for chezlovesyou, I'm glad you caught the tie-in with the story's title – I've put in a few of them throughout, to show different meanings and variations on a theme. Goodness gracious me, WishfulWriting! So many replies! I'm immensely flattered and pleased. I'm glad that you chose my fic to be your first, and thanks for the many compliments. And thanks to both of you, beauty0102 and TV Chick.

Please enjoy the last installment!

(happy face)

Chloe watched irritably as Jack leaned over the chess board, moved his knight, and captured her queen.

"Checkmate," he said, and she made a face. She'd actually been hoping that she could win this time, and the disappointment made her snippy. "I told you I don't play games."

After taking care of the purse-snatcher, Jack had driven her from the garage to the nearest emergency room, where Chloe had been diagnosed with a sprained ankle and a sprained wrist. They'd gotten home late for lunch, and although Chloe had been content to sit and watch her choice of DVD's all afternoon, Jack had soon gotten restless. When he'd mentioned that he was going for a walk, Chloe had almost expected him to disappear, but he'd returned quickly with a cheap chess set and had set about teaching her how to play. She'd only gone along with it to please him, but being beaten several times in a row was beginning to get on her nerves.

"You did pretty well on that card game you bought for the boys yesterday. What was it called?"

"Wings of War, Famous Aces," she said. "And I only did well because I spent a lot of time researching it before I bought it."

"I'm sure if you spent more time researching chess, you'd do better. Want to play again?"

"Not for the rest of my life," Chloe snapped, reacting to the very thought. "You can ask my father."

"Not in the middle of Stalag 17, he can't," Chloe's father announced from his seat in front of the television. He'd taken over the comfy recliner the minute Chloe had moved away from it, and had gotten out his own selection of movies.

"Does your leg still hurt, Chloe?" her mother asked. "Do you want an aspirin before you go to bed?"

"No," Chloe snapped again. "I'm not in pain, I'm just tired of playing stupid games and watching stupid war movies. I want my laptop."

"Ah, the sweet snarl of withdrawal," her father commented.

"Where did you put it, honey bunny?" her mother asked. "Is this it, over here?"

"Mom, I told you not to call me that." Chloe glanced over to where her mother was trying to lift something up from the floor on the side of the couch. "Yeah, that's it."

"I'll get it," said Jack, standing up. "Don't trouble yourself, Mrs. O'Brian."

"It's heavier than it looks," she said. "Do you know how to work these things, Frank?"

"Well, I can plug it in and switch it on," Jack said. "Chloe's the real genius."

He took the case over to the dining room table and opened it up, then attached the cord and found the nearest plug. Switching it on, Chloe checked her email, picking up a few electronic cards from those people at CTU who sent Christmas greetings to everybody whether they liked them or not. Jack had sat down next to her, obviously finding her laptop more interesting than the television, and she showed him the funniest of the scenes. His smile was enough to cheer her up temporarily, but then she saw an ad for cheap flights. It reminded her of Jack's impending departure, and her mood plummeted again. When the movie finally ended, Chloe was glad to order everybody out of the living room with the excuse that she was tired and wanted to go to bed.

"Why don't we switch?" Jack suggested, zipping her laptop case shut. "I'll sleep out here to-night and you can have the bedroom. That way, you'll be closer to the bathroom."

"Whatever," Chloe snapped. She leaned over to reach for her crutch, but Jack got there before she did.

"Come on, I'll help you," he said.

"I don't need your help and I don't want your help," she said.

"Chloe, stop being such a porcupine and let the man carry you to bed," her father snapped back.

Jack took Chloe's arm and placed it around his own shoulders. She had no choice but to limp down the hall to the bathroom with his assistance, trying to remain irritated so that she didn't enjoy his proximity too much. Her parents followed; her father carrying her bags, and her mother with painkillers and a glass of water from the kitchen. When she emerged from the bathroom, they had gone, but Jack was there, waiting, and she let herself lean on him all the way to the bed. Her irritation was slipping rapidly away, no matter how sternly she told herself that he'd soon be gone.

Chloe didn't resist as Jack helped slip her clothes off, then pulled the nightshirt over her head. Reminded of the way she'd done the same for him, Chloe sighed. Had it really only been four days? He'd recovered so quickly.

"Jack?" she asked as he lifted up the covers for her to slide underneath. "Is there anything else I can do for you before you go? I could book your ticket online, and pay for it if you'll let me, even find you a place to stay for the winter ..."

Jack hesitated, then sat down on the side of the bed. "It's better if you don't know where I'm going, Chloe."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," she agreed. "I'm not very good with pain. If somebody tried to torture me to get me to tell them where you were, I'd probably tell them everything in the first minute."

"You're stronger than you think, Chloe. You'd hold out longer than that."

"Two minutes? Big difference."

Jack smiled, but didn't answer, and Chloe finally came back to the original question. "So, is there anything? I mean, whaddaya miss the most when you're out there?"

"I miss --" Jack began, then stopped. Waiting for him to continue, Chloe reached out and laid her hand on top of his. He looked down in surprise, then picked up her hand in both of his. "That's what I miss the most – human contact. The connection to other people. But that's not something you can give me, Chloe, not when I'm out there."

"No," she said, understanding immediately. "Not out there. But if you wanted, you could spend the night here. In this bed. Next to me, I mean. If it wouldn't make things more difficult for you. It probably would, but I just thought I'd offer."

Jack nodded, gave her hand an extra squeeze, then stood up and went out in silence. Chloe had just decided that he wasn't going to take her up on it after all when he returned, putting out the lights and stripping down to his boxers. Smiling, Chloe scooted over to make room for him to lay down next to her, not even grimacing despite the twinges in her wrist and ankle. No doubt to-morrow, after he left, her heart would feel like it had been sprained as well, but to-night, she could offer him shelter one last time.

The End


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